The Test
by montez
Summary: During a lull between jobs the unthinkable happens. Was it just a tragic accident or is something more sinister involved.
1. Chapter 1

The Test

By Montez

Disclaimer: Do not own, this is strictly for entertainment because I totally love the show and characters.

A/N: not really a seasonal timetable, could be an AU story. Supernatural premise still holding with some episodic references.

John Winchester had raised his boys, after their mother's death, to be soldiers. Seemingly forgetting they were children. The world his eyes had been opened up to in the wake of Mary's death blinded him to everything else. His desperate, all consuming need to find the evil that had stolen his beloved wife, the mother to his children, became his life. His instinct, forged from his service in the Marines, caused the his mind to not see his boys as children, but as soldiers who needed to be trained to survive in this new and horrifically frightening world that now lay before them . He was proud of his boys though he rarely told them. When they were in action they worked as one unit. The boys' moves were so in-sync with one another that even with Sam's years away at college, they quickly fell back into a pattern where words were not needed. Just a look and each could instantly do what was required. John felt safe with the boys backing him up and he was always confident in his ability to back up his boys.

They had been back hunting together for a while: John, Dean and Sam Winchester. It was like when Dean and Sam were younger, before Sam had gone off to college and reduced the Winchester hunting trio to a duo. Everything had fallen back into the familiar, albeit tense, routine. John assumed 'command', much to Sam's distress; Dean quickly and obediently fell into line; and Sam was left to fill the position of antagonist as he again questioned nearly every move made. Sam didn't have the patience his brother did for their father's 'need to know' mentality, so as before the eldest and the youngest Winchesters were in a near- constant battle, leaving Dean to helplessly watch from the sidelines. His need to obey his father conflicting with his need to protect his brother, left Dean in the proverbial minefield that was his family.

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After working several jobs in a row they found themselves in an unusual lull between jobs. They used the time to do the mundane things such as laundry; this job was relegated to whomever lost the 'rock, paper, scissors' game the boys came up with as children. Restocking of the first-aid kit, ammo supplies, rock salt and packing of those shotgun shells were on the 'to-do' list as well. It was also a chance to meticulously clean and sharpen their array of weaponry. Though each was always cleaned and/or sharpening after use, a detailed inspection was always good.

The events leading up to the night were normal; at least Winchester-normal. They found themselves that evening at a diner a couple blocks from the motel they had been staying. Between bites of their meals, refills of coffee and Dean's shameless flirting with the barely-legal waitress, they were searching newspapers and websites for possible jobs.

"So anything piquing our interest yet?" Dean pulled his attention from the retreating waitress to glance at his father, hunched over his journal.

"Still working a couple places up. Next day or so we should be good to go." John answered without looking up as Sam continued working on his laptop.

"Good, I'm starting to get a little rusty here." Dean smirked as he again caught the waitress's eye, giving her his trademark smile, watching her giggle with the other waitresses.

"It's getting late." John started gathering his papers, standing, thus signaling to the boys it was time to head back to the motel. Sam quietly closed his laptop as Dean made his way to pay the check. Glancing at his brother Sam was sure Dean was probably going to also get a phone number with his receipt. Sam chuckled to himself as their father passed Dean with a 'let's go'. Dean looked like a kid who'd been caught doing something he wasn't supposed to be doing as he looked longingly at the waitress, then turned to follow his father out the door. Sam was the last one out of the diner, pausing outside the door trying to get his computer back into its' bag. As John and Dean were crossing the street heading back to the motel, Dean saw his father drop a few papers.

"Hey dad, you dropped something!" Dean yelled out as John stepped up onto the sidewalk and turned. "I'll get it." As Dean stooped to grab the papers a car came screaming around the corner.

"DEAN LOOK OUT!!" John shouted.

Sam, just reaching the corner, looked up at his father's panicked yell only to see his brother in the path of an oncoming car that didn't seem to be slowing. "DEAN!!" Sam yelled as his body instinctively reacted.

Dean didn't know what had hit him. He was pretty sure it wasn't the car, but the force of the impact sent him tumbling. Instinct, born from his father's training, caused Dean to tuck his head down and roll from the hit. His action allowed him come up quickly onto his hand's and knee's, the gust of wind from the speeding car ruffling his jacket. His mind racing through all the possible reason's why he would have ended up on the ground as he was didn't come close to the scene that played out in front of him. That scene being of his little brother, the one it is his job to protect, being somersaulted over the hood and roof of the car. At the same time Dean heard his father screaming, "SAM!!"

"Sammy!" Dean yelled as he watched helplessly as his baby brother hit the ground with a sickening thud, the car speeding away, never stopping. Dean got to Sam first, dropping next to him. "Oh God Sam," he whispered.

John instantly appeared on Sam's other side, both of the older Winchesters momentarily stunned at what they had just witnessed. John had watched in horror as the car rounded the corner. In the fraction of a second it had taken him to shout Dean's name, he watched as Sam bolted for his brother. John himself seemed to be frozen, unable for one of the few times in his life to react to the horrifying scene being played out in front of him as his youngest, his baby boy, was run down by a hit-and-run driver.

Dean was afraid to touch Sam, who was lying face down, blood trailing from seemingly every part of his body. His leg was at such an unnatural angle Dean felt bile rise in his throat. In his shock, seeing his brother look so broken, Dean couldn't tell if Sam was breathing or not. He unconsciously pulled his phone out and dialed 911, never even remembering doing so.

John, trying himself to grasp what was happening, shakingly reached his hand to his youngest's neck, praying he'd find a pulse. "God, he's alive!" This seemed to snap both men out of their shock and they each quickly removed their jackets, laying them over Sam's still body. "Sammy you hold on, help's coming," John whispered as he gently touched the side of his son's face, feeling coolness replacing the normal warmth.

Time seemed to pass slowly as the eldest Winchesters waited for the ambulance to arrive, watching as the life's blood seemed to slowly seep away from the youngest. John and Dean continued to whisper assurances to Sam, telling him help was on the way and to hold on. Dean spared a glance at his father, through tear-filled eyes. He was shocked to see tears rolling down his father's face as he listened to the choked words coming from his father's mouth, begging Sam to hold on. Dean in that instant saw the Dad he remembered from all those years ago. It wasn't the drill sergeant his father had become after his mother's death. It wasn't the man who would tell him to patch it up and keep going when he became hurt on a hunt. It was the one who would patch up his skinned knees with bandages and hugs. It was the father whom Dean would run to when he had a bad dream, who would let him curl up in his lap on the recliner in the living room until Dean fell asleep in his arms, knowing he was safe and nothing would hurt him. That was the man he saw across from him, a father who had witnessed one of the most horrible things a parent could witness. In that moment Dean _saw_ John Winchester:_ his dad._


	2. Chapter 2

The Test

Chapter 2

Disclaimer: Same as always. I still don't own, but a girl can dream.

A/N: Just wanted to start off by thanking my Beta FraidyCat. You're wonderful as always! Second Thank You all who have read and reviewed my first chapter. I was waiting to see if I should continue, thanks to the response I will and I hope I don't disappoint.

I am going to take some liberty with John in particular. He maybe a hardened hunter, but he is first and foremost a father. Even the strongest have breaking points and I like to explore those areas. Thanks again!!

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Dean was pulled back to the scene around him as police and paramedics arrived. Sam appeared nearly lifeless except for the unsteady sound of his increasingly labored breathing. To Dean's astonishment John seemed unaware of the arrival of help until one of the police officers pulled him to his feet so the EMTs could start working on Sam.

Dean circled the activity surrounding his brother to stand next to his father as the officer began asking questions about the accident. Dean watched John's eyes as they never left Sam. The patrolman repeated the question. "Sir, can you tell me what happened?"

Dean looked at the officer, then glanced at his dad, noticing John wasn't paying any attention to the policeman. Dean followed his father's gaze, watching as the medics placed a collar around his little brother's neck before gently turning Sam over onto a backboard. Closing his eye's against the near unbearable scene being played out in front of him Dean let out a deep breath, clearing his throat, his voice surprisingly quiet. "We were crossing the street, Sammy was behind us." Letting out a shaky breath Dean continued, "Dad dropped something, I…I stopped to get it…" He closed his eyes trying to remember what had happened. " I heard tires squealing, my dad yelled, then I felt something slam into me, but when I turned…Oh God!" Dean's hands covered his face, realization hit him hard. "The car hit Sam. He pushed me out of the way and it hit him." Dean's mind reeled, Sam had been hurt because he had been careless. He hadn't looked before he stopped in the middle of the road and now Sam was hurt, maybe dying because of him.

The officer's voice filtered through the fog of guilt that had enveloped Dean's thoughts. He was again watching the paramedics, who were now gently lifting his brother's seemingly lifeless body onto the stretcher. "Can you describe the car?"

Dean faced him again. "What? No, I don't know, white maybe." Catching a quick movement Dean saw his father step closer toward Sam.

"I'm going with him." John stated as Sam was wheeled toward the ambulance.

"Sir, we don't…" The EMT started but John used a tone that brokered no argument. "I'm his father! I'm coming!"

The medic conceded. "Up front, I need room to work."

John nodded. He glanced at Dean as he opened the passenger door of the rig. Tears were still fresh on John's face. "I'm right behind you Dad!" Dean yelled, as the rear doors were closed and the ambulance carrying his little brother sped away, lights flashing and sirens blaring.

Turning to the officer, "I need to get to the hospital." Dean's eyes silently pleading that the officer would understand and not hold him up any longer.

Seeing the overwhelming concern for his sibling in Dean's eyes the officer conceded. "Do you need a ride there?"

"No…my car is down at the motel." Dean gestured down the street.

"Okay, If we have anymore questions we'll find you there." Dean nodded. Not only in thanks for not keeping behind any long, but to also acknowledge that he indeed would be at the hospital.

Dean turned and ran the two blocks back to the motel. As the Impala came into view his pace quickened. Yanking the door open, Dean threw himself into the driver's seat, pushed the keys into the ignition and froze. His mind went into replay. The papers floating to the ground. The squealing of the tires coming out of nowhere. The shouting. Sammy in the air, then the bone-jarring thud as his baby brother's body hit the ground. The blood. His father's tears. Suddenly Dean found he could barely get the door open quickly enough as it felt everything he had ever eaten in his life came back to haunt him. For the first time in years Dean Winchester threw up.

In the ambulance, the entire ride to the hospital found John glancing back at his son. An IV line had been started, monitors hooked to Sam's now exposed chest, a constant relay of information going back and forth between the medic and the hospital. Pulling into the emergency room bay John saw several medical personnel waiting and before he could exit the passenger side of the vehicle, Sam was being whisked through the automatic doors. Jogging to catch up John didn't hear any of the back-and-forth dialogue between the EMT and the doctor as his focus was on the face of his unresponsive son.

John found the entrance into the trauma room that Sam was wheeled into blocked by a small woman with a determined look. "Sir, you need to wait in the waiting room."

"That's my son." John wanted nothing more than to pick the woman up, physically remove her from his path.

However he was stopped from doing so by her calm yet firm voice. "What's your son's name?"

"Sam." John looked at her and she recognized pleading on his tear-stained face.

"Let us take care of Sam, please. The doctor will come see you as soon as he can." Without another word the door was shut on John. He was only able to see glimpses of Sam through the window on the door as the staff seemed to buzz around the room like bees.

Within minutes Dean came running down the hall toward his father. "How is he?" Dean was noticeably pale in the harsh fluorescent light as John looked at him.

"I don't know, they haven't said." They both turned, trying to look through the window as the doctors and nurses tried to stabilize Sam.

Suddenly alarms sounded and someone yelled, "I've lost his pulse!"

John charged through the door with Dean close behind. "What's happening?!" His shout as well as presence went unnoticed by all those in the room whose sole attention was trying to revive their patient.

The whine of the paddles charging was barely heard over the activity which quickly stopped as several sets of hands went into the air as the doctor yelled "Clear!" John and Dean watched as Sam's body arched off the table as the thump of the machine sent a heart-starting current through him. Just as quickly activity started again as air was forced into a still chest and compressions were being performed by a nurse, desperately trying to restart the stopped heart of the young man on the table before them. The paddles were again charged and activated.

"Come on Sam." Dean whispered through clinched teeth as a second jolt was sent onto Sam's body.

"Sam please." The choked whisper from John caused Dean to look toward his dad as pure fear was showing on the older man's face. The one and only time Dean had ever seen fear in his father's face before was the night of the fire, as his dad placed baby Sammy into Dean's arms and told him to get his brother outside. Dean took a step toward his dad as he felt, more than saw, his stance waver.

"I got him!" Someone shouted, bring Dean's attention back to his brother. "Call the OR; tell them we're coming up!" The doctor shouted as John and Dean were unceremoniously pushed out of the room, clearing the way as Sam was wheeled out and quickly disappeared into the elevator.

John took a step backwards, leaning against the wall, as Dean moved toward the closed elevator doors, fearing he'd never see Sam alive again. A faint noise behind him caused Dean to turn in time to see his father's knees buckle as John slid down the wall. "DAD!" Dean yelled as he grabbed John, slowing his descent. "Dad?" John's blank expression seemed to look through Dean toward the doors that his youngest had just passed into. "Somebody help me!" Dean shouted as he took his dad's face in his hands, "Dad?" A nurse and a large security guard quickly appeared at Dean's side. Together they managed to get John to a nearby chair. "Dad, please." Dean's fearful tone toward his unresponsive father seemed to get into John's overwhelmed mind as he blinked and looked into Dean's pleading face.

"Dean?" John choked out as Dean saw recognition reflected back.

"Dad you okay?" Emotion clogged Dean's throat as John gave a subtle nod.

A doctor approached as Dean pulled his attention from his dad, rising to meet the doctor. John stood as well, though unsteadily. The nurse who had assisted in getting John to the chair stood watching as Dean put a steadying hand on John's arm. "How's my son?" John asked.

"I'm Dr. Hayes. Sam's been taken up to surgery. He has several broken ribs, his leg is broken in two places. He also has some internal injuries that will be better addressed in surgery." The doctor paused allowing the men before him to absorb what was being said. "He also has a severe concussion and possible skull fracture. A scan will be run to verify that. We generally don't like to sedate someone with obvious head trauma, but Sam's internal injuries need to be addressed immediately." At the questioning look on the men's faces the doctor elaborated. "Sometimes in head-trauma cases it is more difficult to bring them out of anesthetic, but with Sam's injuries it is a risk we need to take."

"What happened in there?" Dean asked nodding at the now-empty trauma room.

"Your brother lost a lot of blood. His pressure dropped causing his heart to stop. We were able to get him back quickly, which is a good thing. They will be able to tell you more after his surgery. I'm sorry I can't give you more than that. The OR waiting room is on the third floor-- someone will come find you there." Dr. Hayes finished with a guarded smile, then turned to go.

Dean felt bile rise in his throat again as all that was wrong with his brother was absorbed into his mind. He willed himself not to throw up again as he looked at his dad. John reached, touching Dean's shoulder. Dean in turn placed his hand over his father's, each trying to give strength to the other. "Let's head upstairs." John said. Then without another word the remaining Winchesters boarded the elevator that would take them closer to their loved one.


	3. Chapter 3

The Test

Chapter 3

Disclaimer: see previous chapters

Patience was something John never had as a child. It wasn't until his time in the Marines that patience was developed. That mental training helped him even now as a hunter. Dean on the other hand never fully grasped the concept. Yes he could be still, quiet, nearly undetectable when needed during a hunt but even then an energy rolled off of him as if he was a tightly coiled spring ready to snap.

So now John sat watching that boundless tension pacing back and forth across the waiting room. Dean had become stoic, only occasionally pausing in his motion to look toward the OR doors, searching for a hint of movement.

John had taken this time to mentally go over what had happened. A part of him was ashamed of his actions downstairs. He had always tried to be strong around his boys. For him to have been on the verge of collapse and Dean to have witnessed it, was really bothering him. Hell he was a trained soldier, an experienced hunter. Then a voice he hadn't listened to in such a long time filtered into his thoughts. It reminded him of his deep love for his children; his unwavering need to keep them safe. The horror of what he'd witnessed matched nothing, short of Mary's death. All he had witnessed as a soldier…all he had done as a hunter…it paled in comparison. The boys had been hurt on hunts before, but never to the point John had ever thought he could loose one of them. That was the voice that reminded him he was a father and a parent should never witness his child so near death.

Watching Dean, John knew that his eldest was close to loosing control of the emotions he carried so deep in his soul that they hardly ever surfaced. He feared his son was near his breaking point and felt helpless to intervene. John had taught his children that there was little room for emotion in their life because emotion clouded judgment and that could get a man killed. He could see now watching Dean that he had been foolish in that respect.

So the hours passed. John sat and Dean paced, each with his own fear of what was happening behind those doors. Nearly 5 ½ hours later a very weary doctor emerged through the doors, drawing the attention of both Winchester men; the only occupants of the waiting room.

"Mr. Winchester?" The doctor approached as John stood.

Dean quickly made his way to his father as John asked the question they both so desperately hoped had a positive answer. "How's my son?"

"I'm Dr. Reynolds." John shook the offered hand. "First I want to assure you Sam did make it through surgery." The doctor noticed a visible release of held breath from both men. "However…"--that fear was back-- "he's in critical condition. We were able to set his leg, which was broken in two places. We didn't need to use pins as they were clean breaks, not crushing ones. Fortunately his broken ribs had not punctured his lung, so we were lucky there. The internal bleeding wasn't nearly as bad as we had first feared." Dr. Reynolds paused as John and Dean gave guarded glances to one another, both fearing the same thing as Dean looked back at the doctor, trying to read what wasn't being said.

"But there's something else?" Dean questioned as John watched the doctor's expression change ever-so-slightly.

The doctor's head nodded. "Sam has a severe concussion; thankfully it isn't a skull fracture, but we do have indications of some cerebral swelling. It isn't something that requires surgery as of yet, but it is being closely monitored."

"He'll be okay though, right?" Dean again radiated his nervous energy as he started shifting his feet.

"Mr. Winchester…"

"Dean."

"Dean," Dr. Reynolds corrected. "We're doing all we can. Sam's other physical injuries, barring any complications, should heal without much problem. Our main concern is the severity of the concussion and honestly we are worried whether or not your brother will even wake up once the anesthetic has works its way out of his system." The doctor stopped. He wanted nothing more than to give these men the news they wanted to hear, that their loved one would be fine, but he didn't want to give them false hope when the reality of the situation seemed to sway to a possibly much darker conclusion.

John couldn't believe what he was hearing. "So there's a chance Sam won't wake up?" How was it possible for him to have his son, yet at the same time not?

"I'm sorry, I really wish there was more I could say that would help. Right now we are just going to have to wait and see." Dr. Reynolds watched as it seemed the men before him aged beyond their years as all the information was being taken in and processed.

"Can we see him? Can we see Sam?" John asked quietly.

"He's in recovery. I'll allow you to look in for just a moment. In a few hours we'll move him to a more private room where you will be able to stay with him."

John nodded as he looked at Dean who was obviously still processing the fact his baby brother might not wake up. Silently both of them followed Dr. Reynolds down the quiet hallway toward recovery. As they entered the ward they noticed that only two of the beds were occupied. The first was with an elderly gentlemen; the second was obscured by a partially-pulled curtain.

Dr. Reynolds paused in his stride. "Right now Sam's on a ventilator until the anesthetic wears off, so it will appear worse than it is." The doctor then turned to take the last few steps around the curtain.

"_How could it look worse?"_ John thought after all they'd been told already. But as Dean and he stepped past the curtain his mind reeled at the scene before him. "Oh God," he whispered.

"Sammy…" Dean choked out as he took in the sight of his brother's appearance.

Sam was by no means a small man. At over six feet tall he seemed at times to tower over most people, his father and brother included. However now looking at his still, pale form in the hospital bed, Sam never seemed so small and vulnerable.

John and Dean knew the image before them would forever be burned into their minds, to haunt their own nightmares for years to come. Sam lay perfectly still, his hands straight by his sides, both had IVs attached; one filtering blood, the other necessary medication. His chest was exposed. Aside from the bandages from surgery, it displayed an array of purples and near-blacks from the bruises. His leg was elevated with a cast that ran from mid-thigh to his ankle. Stitches showed at his hair line against his pale face, with smaller bandages over different places of his child-like face. Monitors were hooked to seemingly every exposed skin surface, but the most horrifying thing was the ventilator hose that snaked down his throat as the machine itself gave the rhythmic-_whoosh and click_-of air being forced into Sam's lungs.

Even with the warning Sam's appearance was more than Dean could take. He abruptly turned and stormed back down the hall he and his father had just come down.

John had not moved, taking in the same terrifying view Dean had. "Dean!" John called as he watched his eldest retreat. He was torn between his sons; both of them needed him desperately. John turned back to Sam, stepping closer to his bed. "Sam," he whispered, wanting to touch his son but at the same time afraid. He reached up and gently touched the side of Sam's face with the least bandages, "Oh Sammy." John again felt tears forming in his eyes looking at how broken his baby boy appeared to be. "You hold on kiddo, you hear. You're gonna be just fine." John gently stroked the top of Sam's head as he leaned down and did something he hadn't done since the boys were young; he kissed his son's forehead. Turning John looked at the doctor. "You'll get us if anything changes?"

"Of course," Dr. Reynolds replied. "Sam should be in a more private room in a couple hours."

"I need to find my other son." The doctor nodded in understanding as John glanced one more time at Sam, then headed off to find Dean.

John made his way to the waiting room they had spent the last several hours in hoping to find Dean again pacing. His concern for his eldest began to rise when Dean wasn't there. _"Where would he go?" _John's mind wondered as he started a search of the floor. In his heart he knew Dean would not leave the hospital with his brother in such bad shape. John worried Dean may not be thinking as clearly as usual, so he headed for the elevator--he wanted to check the parking lot, just in case. The elevator he took down wasn't the same one they had gone up in so it put him further into the hospital than he expected. He started searching for signs that would lead him to the emergency room parking area. He rounded the corner and heard muffled shouts coming from behind a closed door, at the same time he noticed a security guard round the corner at the other end of the hall. The shouting was coming from the room marked 'Chapel'. As John neared he recognized the voice. Through the small window on the door John's heart broke at the sight inside.

Feeling a presence nearing him John's eyes met the guards who spoke first. "I got a call of a disturbance near the Chapel; is everything alright sir?"

"It's my son. His brother is in pretty bad shape, he's upset." John knew he needed to defuse Dean soon or he would be asked to leave the hospital.

"Are sure you can handle him or do you need some help?" the guard asked, glancing at the door.

"I can take care of it, please just give us a few minutes." The guard could feel the pain radiating from John. The man was having to deal not only with a critically ill son, but another who apparently wasn't wanting to accept what was happening.

"I'll check back in a little bit, but if you can't get him calmed down I'll have to ask him to leave." The guard hated to make it sound like a threat, but it was his job to keep everyone safe.

"Thank you." John said as he watched the guard retreat. Closing his eyes for a second he tried to steel himself for what he was going to have to deal with inside the room. Upon entering his heart clinched in his chest at the sound of his eldest's emotion-choked voice.

"**Why are you doing this to him, it should have been me**!!" Dean's anguished voice shouted toward the ceiling. "**I'm supposed to look out for him, not him for me!!"**

"Dean!" John said firmly, but softly, fighting tears in his own eyes at the ones that fell from Dean's.

Dean jerked around at the sound of his father's voice, seeing the tears on John's face Dean feared the worst. "Is Sam alright?"

"For now Buddy, but what about you?" John asked.

"What?" Dean turned from his father, resuming his pacing.

"Dean they heard your shouting down the hall. I just stopped security from coming in here." John took a step toward his son.

"Dad," Dean turned facing his father, his arms shooting up in the air. "Don't you get it, that should be me up there not Sam?! I failed him Dad, I failed you and Sam's hurt because of me!" John could see all the pain, fear and anger in Dean's face.

"Dean." As John spoke Dean's name he watched as the younger man grabbed a four-foot metal candle stick from near the podium and began striking it, anger and pain escaping with each collision of metal and wood.

John moved quickly, needing to stop his son's destructive attack before things got any more out of hand. "DEAN!" John shouted as he came up behind the young man and grabbed the rod as Dean raised it for another blow. Not realizing what was happening Dean reverted to instinct and came around swinging. John just barely side-stepped a punch he was sure if Dean had landed would have knocked him out cold, if not broken his jaw. As momentum carried Dean around John grabbed his out-of-control son in a bear hug, only losing his footing when Dean propelled himself backwards causing them both to slam into the back wall of the small room. Forgetting how solid his son was, John was stunned for a second, but never released the hold he had on Dean. They both slid to the floor. "Dean." John whispered calmly into his son's ear as they came to rest, Dean's back firmly held against his father's chest by unrelenting arms. After a moment John felt his son almost deflate in his grip.

"God what have I done?" Dean cried out full of emotion, "it should be me. I'm sorry dad…I'm sorry." Dean's head dropped as John felt him start shaking.

"It's not your fault Dean," John whispered, "it's not your fault."

They sat in silence as Dean dealt with the emotions that were pouring from his soul, emotions that only his brother could stir. John held his son through the near-uncontrollable sobbing coming from him, as tears fell freely down his own face. John heard the door click as it was opened slightly, not looking up he was sure it was the security guard checking back though the man never entered, only silently closing the door back, giving the broken men inside the Chapel time to heal.

Dean's hoarse voice was the first to break the silence, "Dad I need to be with him."

"We both do," John stated as they both slowly stood. John pulled his nearly broken son into a hug, just as much for him as for Dean. John knew this was a freak accident, that in no way was it Dean's fault. He knew it would take Dean time to see it that way. John had always known that his sons had their own special connection to one another, they could always feel each other's pain, each other's fear. As Dean and he walked out of the chapel back toward the elevators John again knew that when it came to the other's safety, both of his boys would put their lives on the line. He just prayed that wasn't the cost for today.

Surprisingly it had been over an hour they had been gone and Sam had been moved to a more private room. Upon being shown the room they were a bit relieved to see the ventilator had been removed. John looked questioningly at the nurse who said that despite Sam's unconscious state he was able to breathe on his own, which from the doctor's stand-point was an encouraging sign. So the vigil began as through the night and early morning the nurses came and went, John and Dean each dozing on and off as Sam's condition remained unchanged.

John woke from his sleep mid-morning as yet another nurse came in doing her rounds. Dean was still asleep as was Sam, though for very different reasons. John took a few minutes to watch his boys. It had been so long since he had watched his children sleep. For months following the fire he would hardly allow the boys out of his sight. At night he would sit guarding them, for fear that what had taken Mary would try to return for his boys. During those months Dean had taken it upon himself to climb into the bed with baby Sammy, placing his own protective arm over his defenseless brother. As the years wore on it came to a point where each boy couldn't sleep if the other wasn't in the same bed. On the rare occasions a toddler Sam would venture from the shared bed seeking out his father. Dean would awake in a panic at his missing brother, then upon finding him in John's bed, Dean would crawl in behind and thus Sam would sleep snuggled between his father and brother. Of course as Dean grew into his teen years it became an issue when the much younger Sam didn't understand why all of the sudden his big brother didn't want him in his bed. It took a lot of explaining and a lot of tears on Sam's part before he would stop trying to get in the same bed with Dean. However, John would, at times, still catch Dean sitting on the end of his little brother's bed at night, mirroring himself in those early months, guarding his brother from any unseen forces that wanted to do him harm.

John quietly made his way to Sam's bedside. He gently placed his hand on Sam's head, "Sam, I don't know if you can hear me, but you need to hold on." John tenderly ran his fingers through his son's limp hair. "You can't leave us now. You hear me?" Standing John wiped the lone tear that had escaped his eye as he turned and again looked at Dean. He gave a sad smile as he at least knew where both his boys were, then quietly made his way out of the room in search for some coffee.

Dean started awake calling for Sam a short time later. He had dreamt of the accident and quickly stood so he could visually remind himself that his brother was still with them, though unconscious. Dean then looked around for any sign of his father, hoping the elder Winchester hadn't left them. Slowly Dean approached his little brother's bed. "Man Sammy, what were you thinking?" Dean whispered exhaustedly. "What were you thinking running in front of that car like that?" Closing his eyes Dean shook his head slowly.

"He was thinking of you." John's quiet response startled Dean who surprisingly hadn't heard his father reenter the room. "Here, I brought you some coffee." John handed Dean the cup.

"Thanks."

A short time later the doctor came in to check on Sam. "So Doc, how is he doing?" Dean was the first to ask the obvious question.

"All his vitals seem to be holding steady, which is a good sign. He came off the vent yesterday without much difficulty. I am still concerned that he hasn't regained consciousness. If there isn't any change by later today I'm going to order another scan to check the swelling," the doctor replied. "I'm concerned that the longer Sam remains unresponsive the more of a chance there could be of permanent problems."

John knew what the doctor was talking about, he just didn't want to think that anything like that could happen to his son. Again Dean's voice broke the silence. "Permanent how? Are you trying to tell me Sammy might not be the same?" John could hear the undertone of anger in his older son's voice.

"We don't know, but it's a possibility." The doctor turned to John, "Perhaps you two should go and get some rest, we can call you if anything changes." John figured the doctor had picked up on Dean's tone and was hoping to defuse him.

"I'm not leaving my brother!" Dean took a dangerous step toward the doctor, who to his credit didn't take a step back.

John knew he had to intervene quickly. "Doctor will you give us a minute…" Turning John looked at Dean, "Dean…hallway now!" Dean shot his father a look that made John think for just a second that he was going to defy an order, but he turned and stormed from the room, John close on his heels.

"You need to calm down Dean." John said through clenched teeth, "You're not helping Sam by getting so angry."

"Hell yes I'm angry, they just told us Sam may not be the same. How is that not pissing you off Dad, this is stupid…a hit-and-run is how we could loose Sam?! After all we have seen and been through it is going to be something like this!" Dean threw his hands up in frustration at his father's cool demeanor.

"We have to wait and see, Dean, he could wake up and be fine! We just don't know. You can't let what could happen cloud the fact that he's alive and no matter what we need to be there for him when he awakens." Looking intently at his eldest. "Dean you need to remember that this isn't the doctor's fault. Getting angry at him could jeopardize Sam's care. He's doing all he can, so you need to back off and let him do his job without feeling threatened!" John felt the same helpless feeling as Dean, if not more so, but he also knew getting angry wasn't going to help with anything.

John saw something break in his son as Dean tried to again contain his inner turmoil. "Dad I can't loose him. Not like this, I just…" Dean broke off the statement, possibilities of worst-case scenarios running fast-forward through Dean's mind. He abruptly turned from his father and stomped back toward Sam's room. As Dean reached the door the doctor was emerging. He attempted to speak to Dean who just ignored him, entering his brother's room.

"I'm sorry…"John was stopped by the doctor's hand raising.

"Please don't be. Believe it or not it's something that comes with this job. As much as I may want to I can't always give a family the news they want. I'm sorry I can't give you more answers. I'll be back later to check on Sam." With that the doctor turned and left.

John looked at Sam's closed door. He knew Dean needed time alone with his brother, to work out what was and could be happening. John laid his hand on the closed door, bowing his head, closing his eyes, giving a silent prayer that things would work out in their favor, for all their sakes.

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A/N: Thank you all for the reviews, they mean so much. Chapter 4-coming soon. Thanks again!


	4. Chapter 4

The Test

Chapter 4

Disclaimer: See other chapters.

A/N: I am so overwhelmed at the positive reviews. The emotions are apparently coming across the way I hoped. Thank you all so much. This is also another shout-out to my wonderful Beta-FraidyCat-THANK YOU!! Now on with Chapter 4 hope you enjoy!

Dean entered Sam's room. Reeling from what the doctor had said, he couldn't fathom the possibility of something really being wrong with his baby brother. It just wasn't acceptable in Dean's mind. Dean looked at his brother's still form, then walked over to the window. It was a bright, sunny day. People could be seen coming and going about their business, none of them realizing that one man's world was slowly falling apart. Watching the world continue to turn around him, Dean let his mind drift to what Sam and he had been through since the fire that claimed Jessica and they had started hunting together again.

After the death of Jessica Dean watched as his brother went to that dark place; that place of self-loathing and guilt. The same place he could remember, though barely, his father had gone all those years ago after their mother's death. Dean watched as his brother slowly began to emerge from that darkness. Sam would start to share things with Dean about his life with Jessica and how much his little brother had really loved her. Dean had felt responsible for taking his brother away that weekend, but months later Sam let Dean know that he had never once blamed him for what happened.

Over the months, being back on the road together, Sam and he had reverted to the team their father had trained them to be. Though he had wished the circumstances had been different Dean was glad to have his brother back at his side. He also recalled some of the close calls they had over that time. Like the time that crazy, back-woods family thought they could kidnap Sam and not endure the wrath of big brother Dean. Then there was that time when a hunt went terribly wrong and Dean himself had almost died when he accidentally electrocuted himself while taking out a Rawhead. Sam never gave up on finding a way to save him, even if it turned out to be black magic. Sam didn't know that at the time but truthfully Dean would have probably done the same thing if it had been Sam.

However the most prominent memory over the last several months was from when they had returned to their hometown-Lawrence, Kansas. Sam had a vision of someone in trouble in their old house and Dean had reluctantly agreed to return to the place where it all had started. It turned out to be a poltergeist that had been drawn to the place because of what had happened to the Winchester family all those years ago. They had met Missouri Mosley. She had been a friend of their father's, who had shown a grieving John what was really hiding in the dark. She helped the boys clear the house, only for them to later discover that it wasn't cleared at all. Dean felt a shiver go through him as he remembered how he nearly lost his brother that night, first when the poltergeist nearly choked Sam to death with a lamp cord, then later when it trapped Sam inside as they tried to rescue the children who now lived there. Dean remembered breaking his way through the front door with an ax, only to find his battered brother pinned to the wall by an unseen force. They watched as a fiery entity made its way toward them. Sam, at the last minute before Dean was going to blast it, recognized the spirit of their mother. She again sacrificed herself that night to save her boys.

Dean had been more shaken by seeing his mother's spirit than he had ever let on to Sam. It brought back memories that Dean had long ago buried…his last memories of his mother alive.

_He recalled going into Sammy's nursery that night with his mom, kissing his baby brother goodnight. It was one of those rare nights when his father had gotten home before Dean had to be in bed. Dean recalled being excited when his dad surprised him by walking into Sammy's room, calling Dean's name. He remembered running to his father's strong arms as he was lifted in the air and hugged tight. Dean recalled thinking how silly his dad was when John asked him if Dean thought Sam was old enough to pitch around a football yet. It was silly to Dean because he wondered if his dad didn't realize Sammy was just a baby. Dean relished in the happiness that comes to a four-year-old when both of his parents helped put him to bed. His dad read him a story while his mother sat with him in his bed. Upon finishing the story, John had leaned over and kissed Dean on the forehead, telling him goodnight. Then his mother pulled the covers up around him as he snuggled down into them. He remembered her soft voice whispering, "Always remember, angels are watching over you." Then she too kissed him goodnight and he watched as she closed his bedroom door._

_That would be the last time Dean would see his mother alive. He awoke later that night to a scream and it scared him. Those four-year-old fears went through the roof when he heard his father's booming voice yelling for his mother, followed by the thunderous sound of his dad running up the stairs. As he heard his dad run past his door, Dean had made his way to it, only opening it when he heard his father yell out "NO!" Dean had only taken a few steps into the hallway when his dad came running out of Sammy's room and put his baby brother in his arms telling Dean to take his brother outside. Dean was confused as he had only been allowed to hold baby Sammy while sitting on the couch with his mother hovering nearby. However the tone of his father's voice sounded serious, so Dean turned and moved as quickly as his little legs would carry them. He never really knew how he had managed to get down the stairs and out a locked door carrying his brother; but he did, then he stopped a few feet off the porch and looked up at Sammy's window. He watched as a funny orange glow danced behind the curtains. Suddenly he was grabbed from behind, only to hear his father's voice, "I've got ya." His father ran and as they neared the tree in the front yard the windows to Sammy's room blew out. Dean recalled looking from the window to his father, asking for his mother. Even at four Dean could see by the expression on his father's face that he would never see his mom again._

So from that day on the remaining Winchesters were thrown into a world of shadows and monsters; of evil hiding in the most innocent of places. They were introduced to a pocket of a few men and women who knew the truth and fought to hold that evil at bay. That became their world--the world of a hunter. So as Dean's thoughts returned to the brightly shining sun filtering into the hospital room that held his baby brother, he wondered how something as 'normal' as a hit-and-run could be turning his world upside-down.

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Sam opened his eyes slowly. It was difficult at first as the brightness wasn't something he was used to. He blinked a few times as the ceiling above him came into focus. _"This isn't the motel," _his tired mind reasoned. His body felt heavy, achy. As his eyes took in his surroundings he realized he was in a hospital. _"How the hell did I get here?"_ his mind wondered as he noticed the different machines and wires that seemed to be attached to him. At first he thought he was alone; panic entered his thoughts at not seeing his father or brother nearby. It was then that he saw movement to his left. Slowly he turned his head and as he did a severe pain shot through his skull, it felt like he had been hit by a hammer. He squeezed his eyes shut as the pain seemed to pass, he quickly felt the toll that intense pain was taking on his already-tired body. Sam again drug his eyes open looking for the figure he'd seen near the window.

"Dean?" Sam whispered out.

Dean's head jerked around from the scene outside to what he thought was his name being called from inside the room. Making his way toward Sam's bed a smile broke across his face as he looked at his brother's barely-open eyes. "Sammy?" Getting a half-hearted lop-sided grin, Dean released the breath he was holding as he reached for the call button with one hand and his brother's hand with the other. 'Sammy."

"May I help you?" Came the voice over the speaker.

"I need a doctor, somebody. My brother's awake." Dean all-but shouted as he laid his hand on Sam's head. "Hey Sammy. How you feeling?" Dean couldn't contain his grin nor his fear as his brother just looked at him, not responding.

Slowly Sam blinked, "Tired," he whispered. "What happened?"

The nurse walked in the door as Sam asked the question. "You let this pretty nurse look over you first." Dean said with his trademark smirk, "then we'll talk."

Sam gave a slight nod as he looked at the nurse. "Nice to finally see those gorgeous eyes there Sam." She spoke softly as she began checking his vitals. "Does anything hurt?"

"Sore…head…my leg…" Sam answered, exhaustion evident in his voice. Dean watched closely as the nurse continued her assessment.

"That's to be expected. I'll get you something for that as soon as the doctor checks you out." The nurse smiled as the doctor came into the room at just that moment, followed by a very worried John.

Dean met his father's gaze, "He's awake." That was all Dean needed to say as a smile broke across John's face that nearly matched Dean's.

The doctor spoke quietly with the nurse then turned to the other two men in the room. "If you gentlemen would give us a few minutes to check Sam over." As much as neither man wanted to leave the room now that Sam was awake, John and Dean conceded and stepped into the hall. About 15 minutes later the doctor emerged with a smile on his face as both Winchester men nearly pounced on him. "How's Sam?" John spoke first.

"He's resting now. He's going to be tired the first few times he wakes up, but that's to be expected." The doctor paused a second then continued. "From all the preliminary indications I'd say Sam is a very lucky young man." Smiles again broke across the worried faces of the men standing before him. "Once he's more alert we'll run a few more tests. However he was able to answer our basic questions. So unless something changes I think Sam is well on his way to recovery."

"Thank God." John said, barely able to contain the emotion he felt swelling inside him.

"Can we go back in?" Dean asked stepping toward the door as if the doctor's answer was going to make a difference.

"He's sleeping now. We gave him something for the pain. As I said he'll be tired at first, but yes you can go back in." Before the doctor had even finished Dean was halfway through the door.

"Thank you doctor." John shook the man's hand, ever grateful his son had returned to them. John soon followed Dean, finding his eldest standing next to Sam's bed. As Dean's eyes met his father's they each had tears threatening to fall, only this time they were tears of joy that Sam was back with them.

As the doctor had said, the next few times Sam awoke he was groggy, but he did recognize both Dean and John. It was the next morning when Sam was coherent enough to try and find out what had happened. John and Dean were sitting in chairs on either side of his bed. Sam noticed his father was dozing, while Dean was flipping through a car magazine he had managed to find in the gift shop.

"What happened?" Sam asked quietly, still causing John to jump slightly. Dean met his brother's eyes as he stood. John followed suit on the other side of the bed.

"What do you remember?" Dean asked as he sat on the edge of the bed, raising it up a bit so Sam was sitting up slightly.

Sam looked at his brother, then his dad. "I remember us eating at that diner. We got up to go…that's about it."

"Sam." John's quiet voice pulled Sam's attention from Dean's suddenly emotion-filled face. "Sam you were hit by a car as we were crossing the street near the diner."

Sam felt the bed shift as Dean rose from it, walking toward the window. "A car?" Sam repeated, "I don't remember that."

"Sammy", it was rare for his father to use Dean's nickname for him. This caused Sam some concern as he noticed John glance over at Dean, who was now staring out the window. "The car was headed for your brother. You pushed him out of the way."

Silence followed for several seconds as Sam took in what John had said. He then looked over at Dean. "Are you okay?

Dean gave a nervous laugh as he shot a sideways look toward Sam. "Yeah, thanks to you." Sam swore he heard sadness in Dean's voice. "But why? Why did you do it?" Dean asked turning to face his brother.

Sam was bewildered by the question. Why would his brother even ask a question like that? "I don't remember doing it, but I guess I was looking out for you. Just like you do for me." Sam looked at John becoming more confused at his brother's defensive stance. "You'd have done the same thing for me." Sam turned his head facing Dean again.

"That's not the point." Dean felt angry--not at Sam but at himself, at the whole situation. But it was coming out toward Sam. "It's my job to watch out for you!"

"Dean!" John tried to interrupt before emotions took over rational thought from his eldest.

"What!? I can't watch out for my brother?!" Sam couldn't understand why his brother seemed so upset. "Look, Dean, I don't…" Sam's words were cut off by a sudden intake of breath as Sam closed his eyes tightly and his hands automatically went to his head.

"SAM!"…"SAMMY!" John and Dean both shouted simultaneously. Dean rushed back to his brother's side as John hit the call button.

"Come on Sammy, look at me." Dean's voice pleaded as John's attention turned to the nurse who had just entered the room.

"Sam, can you tell me what's wrong? What hurts?" The nurse asked as she started taking his vitals.

"My…head…" he gasped out. Sam had become visibly paler and his breathing more erratic.

"Sam I need you to try and calm down okay?" The nurse's calming voice tried to filter through Sam's pain as his heart rate started to increase. John and Dean watched helplessly as the pain Sam was in didn't seem to be subsiding. Again the nurse's voice tried to break through. "Sam can you tell me if this has happened before? Have you had pain like this before?"

"Woke up before…not as bad?" Sam whispered out between quick breaths.

"What's wrong with him?" John finally found his voice as the joy he had felt finding his son awake and recovering was being replaced with panic at again seeing him in such pain.

"I'm not sure, could be a side-effect from the medication or something related to his concussion. The doctor's been paged and should be here any minute," answered the nurse. At that moment the doctor came into the room. John and Dean didn't leave this time. They did notice as the pain started to subside in Sam's face. The doctor quickly went over Sam's vitals and his responses to the nurses questions. She then left the room only to quickly return and inject something into Sam's IV.

The doctor turned to talk with John and Dean. "What was that?" Dean asked, though in the back of his mind he had a dreaded feeling that he might have an idea as to what it was.

"I'm not sure." The doctor answered, "Once he's recovered some from this episode I'm going to order another scan to make sure the swelling from before hasn't returned for some reason." Confusion and fear showed on the faces of the two men before him. "If that's the case we have procedures that will help relieve the pressure. However it could also be a side-effect from the different medications he is taking." Dean neared his brother and watched as his features began to relax from the pain. He noticed that Sam was struggling to stay awake. The doctor's voice broke the silence again. "I'm going to schedule a scan for Sam and hopefully I'll have a better answer for you in a few hours." With that the doctor left the room.

John neared Sam's bed, standing next to his eldest as Dean spoke, "Look Sammy, I'm sorry." Dean felt a burden of guilt that maybe his verbal sparing had somehow caused this setback.

Sam reached his hand toward his big brother, who quickly took a hold of it. "Dean…it's okay," Sam's exhausted voice whispered. "Not your fault…I have a hard head." Sam was trying to get his brother to laugh even though he was in pain.

That it did as Dean chuckled nervously. "Hard head is the truth Sammy. Just maybe not hard enough." Dean grinned, but the worry still showed on his face.

"Boys," John warned, glad to hear the banter but again worried for his youngest.

"You guys go eat…rest. I'm tired, just gonna rest a while." Sam was struggling to stay awake.

"Okay kiddo," John shot Dean a look, stopping him from arguing with Sam's comment. "You just rest for now. We'll be back soon." Sam smiled slightly as he drifted to sleep. John tugged on Dean's sleeve as they reluctantly left the room.

Making their way down the hall toward the elevators Dean spoke first. "What do you think that was Dad?"

John rubbed his hand over his stubbled face. "I honestly don't know. Maybe it's the meds, maybe it's nothing." In his heart, though, John didn't believe it was nothing.

"That didn't look like nothing Dad. The last time I saw him in that kind of pain iwas when those visions of his started happening when he was awake." Dean looked at John as they stopped at the lift doors.

"He didn't say anything about a vision. It could be from the injuries, he has been pretty banged up. Let's hope the test the doctor wants to run tells us something." John wanted to hold out hope that it was nothing serious, but fear was slowly making its way back into his consciousness.

"Yeah, maybe." Dean answered as they stepped into the elevator and the doors closed.

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Down in the cafeteria John and Dean ate silently. Actually they didn't do much more than pick at their food choices. "We should go back to the motel, get cleaned up a little." John quietly mentioned.

"I know." Dean answered between drinks of his luke-warm coffee. "We should go in shifts. One of us go while the other sits with Sam. He shouldn't be alone." Leaning back in his chair Dean rubbed his face. "Dad, I have a bad feeling about this."

"About what?" John's own tentacles of fear had been spreading since Dean had mentioned the similarities between Sam's reaction in his room and the visions that sometimes overtook his youngest.

"I don't know. I just feel there's something more wrong that we can't see." Dean stood. "I'll go first. I'll be back in an hour." Dean left his father sitting without another word.

A short time later John returned to Sam's room. The nurse had informed him that Sam's scan was scheduled in about six hours. John was now again reminded why he disliked hospitals; it was the waiting. John neared Sam's bed his concern increasing as he saw the expression on his sleeping son's face. It wasn't one of the peaceful rest that at drug-induced sleep usually brought. It was more of a fearful look and that worried John as to what his son may be seeing in his unconscious mind. John wondered if Dean was right--if something was going on that dealt with Sam's abilities and the link to the demon it somehow seemed to have. Did the accident and Sam's subsequent unconsciousness cause something to begin that they weren't prepared to handle.

Dean indeed returned an hour later. John informed him of the time of Sam's test and that his brother had remained asleep. John left, promising to return shortly. Dean mirrored John's actions as he walked up to Sam's bed and watched his brother sleep. He also took note of the fearful expression he wore.

Again Dean found himself staring out the window. Another night was falling, but Dean felt little comfort. It was as if a darkness was working its way closer. Dean felt himself afraid for one of the few times in his life; he felt powerless to stop the fear. It was a fear that something was coming and he had no way to protect his brother.

An hour passed and John had yet to return. Dean had taken his seat closer to his brother. His whole focus was watching over Sam. Suddenly Sam's eyes shot open. "DEAN!" he shouted.

Dean jumped to his feet, instantly at his brother's side, only to watch as Sam's eyes rolled back and his whole body started shaking. Before Dean could react a nurse came flying into the room, alerted by Sam's monitors going off at the nurse's station. She hit the alarm button on the wall calling for immediate assistance.

"SAMMY!" Dean shouted, "What's going on?!"

"He's having a seizure." The nurse answered as additional medical staff flooded the room. Dean watched as one of the nurses injected something into Sam's IV. His convulsions eased, but he started gasping. "Get me a tube, I need to intubate him now!" the doctor shouted as another nurse grabbed something from a nearby drawer. "Call radiology, tell them we need that scan--stat!" Before Dean could take in all that was happening the sides of Sam's bed were raised and he was being pushed from the room.

Dean grabbed one of the nurses. "Is he all right?"

"His seizure stopped. The doctor will be able to tell you more after the scan. I'm sorry." She then quickly followed the others out the door as they rushed Sam toward the elevators. Dean again found himself standing in front of closing doors that were taking his brother from him.

Dean felt he was in a daze. He had gone from having his baby brother to all the sudden seemingly losing him again. What ate his soul more than anything was the panicked way Sam had yelled out his name before the seizure began. Did his brother need him, was he fearing whether Dean was safe or not? He just didn't know. Dean sank into a chair near the nurse's station, his head dropping into his hands.

A short-time later Dean heard the ding of the elevator doors. He looked up to see his father stepping off. As John stepped out he took in the sight of Dean slowly rising from the chair in which he had been sitting. John's heart dropped to his stomach as he took in Dean's shattered expression.

"What is it? Where's Sam?" John almost didn't want an answer to the question.

"He had a seizure Dad. Then he couldn't breathe, so they put a tube down his throat and took him for that scan." Dean's voice wavered as John saw fear in the younger man's face. "Dad." Dean's voice turned solemn as John watched him struggle to continue. "Before the seizure, Sam yelled out for me. It was almost a panicked yell, then…he just started shaking." Dean looked pleadingly to his father. "What's going on Dad?"

John placed a hand on Dean's shoulder, "I don't know son. I don't know."

They both returned to Sam's room, not knowing where else to go. Time passed and Dean was becoming impatient. "We should have heard something by now!" He had resumed his pacing as he had in the waiting room days earlier.

Within minutes of Dean's voiced concern the door opened and Sam was wheeled back into the room, the doctor following. "John, Dean, I need to speak with you both in the hall please." The doctor's tone conveyed an underlying concern that wasn't lost on either man.

Giving a glance as the nurse finished situating Sam, who was again hooked to a ventilator, John and Dean followed the doctor out the door. "What's wrong with Sam?" John asked as soon as they cleared the door.

Looking at both men the doctor's expression showed confusion. "I honestly don't know." He sounded almost as defeated as the men before him looked.

"What do you mean you don't know?!" Dean's voice again venturing into a dangerous tone.

Taking a deep breath the doctor started. "His scan came back clear. There is no swelling that could be causing this reaction. I've ordered additional testing, but as of right now I can not find a medical reason for what has happened."

"Just WHAT has happened that has my SON back on a ventilator?" John's patience was waning.

The doctor bowed his head, shaking it slightly. "Sam has slipped into a coma." Shock was the expression that filled the faces of the two remaining Winchester men. "I'm sorry. I wish I had an answer, but I just don't." The doctor not knowing what else to do turned from the family, puzzled and despondent himself at his inability to help his patient.

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A couple of days passed and there was no change in Sam's condition. Dean never left his brother's side. The echo of Sam calling to him haunted Dean. He felt his brother needed him, but felt powerless to assist. John would come and go between the hospital and the motel. He had taken to making calls to his contacts throughout the hunter community to see if anyone could help. However, no one seemed to have any explanation as to why Sam would have suddenly lapsed into a coma when he had seemed to be recovering.

Dean was dealing or not as the case may be with his brooding silence. He would sit on Sam's bed, watching his brother, looking for any signs of distress. "Sammy," Dean started, swallowing hard, trying to contain his emotions. "Sammy, I don't know if you can hear me. I don't know why you called out to me the way you did, but I want you to know I'm here. I'm not leaving you until you wake up. Do you understand? I'm not going anywhere." Tears silently trailed down Dean's face as he squeezed Sam's hand, hoping his little brother could feel him there. Dean then quietly returned to his chair next to Sam's bed to continue his vigil.

John was becoming concerned with his eldest's behavior. Dean wouldn't eat, he barely slept, his existence seemed to be linked to Sam's condition. John could see how exhausted Dean was becoming but he refused to leave Sam, seemingly fearful if he did his brother would slip away from him.

Having gone to get some fresh coffee, the only thing Dean seemed to accept, John returned to the room thankful to find Dean had finally allowed himself to fall asleep. Placing Dean's coffee on the table John went around to the other side of the room taking his chair. As he sat he closed his eyes and took a long drink from his cup, allowing the burning fluid to flow down his throat. They had been there a week. It was the worst week of John's life. He didn't know how to help Sam and Dean hadn't spoken in two days, so he was at a loss as to how to help his eldest as well. John tilted his head back, trying to figure out if he had missed something or if this was just a horrific run of bad luck for the Winchesters.

It had been silent in the room except for the sound of the ventilator when John thought he heard Dean's voice speaking quietly. Raising his head John watched his son for any sign that he was awake.

"Sammy, what's wrong?" Dean whispered out.

John stood, crossing the room to stand near his eldest. "Dean?" he called softly, but got no reaction.

"I told you I wasn't leaving." Dean continued as if carrying on a conversation, but John was only getting one side. "Sammy I'm staying until you wake up. You need to try and wake up so I can help you." The conversation was unnerving for John to watch. "What do you mean you have to do this alone?" Dean's voice was becoming more distressed. "You better not be giving up Sammy! Because I'm not!" John was getting scared at what he was hearing. "You can't do this!" Dean's voice was breaking as John watched tears start flowing from his still-closed eyes. "What am I supposed to do! No man it's not alright! You're here because of me! You can't do this to me! SAMMY!" Dean yelled, "SAMMY!"

At that moment the alarms sounded on Sam's monitors. John turned suddenly, looking at the screaming machines around his youngest son's bed.

"SAMMY!" Dean yelled again starting himself awake. "NO!"

"Sam, no!" John yelled as nurses and doctors filled the room.

"Don't go Sammy! Don't you leave me!" Dean yelled as he backed to the wall, watching as Sam was surrounded by medical staff.

John watched horrified as a nurse started chest compressions. Another removing the ventilator hose to manually force air into Sam's lungs. Paddles were heard charging and the doctor yelled "Clear!"

Dean continued to yell out for his brother as John watched as the paddles were recharged and activated several more times to no avail.

Dean slid to the floor as John stood in shock, as the doctor called, "Time of death 3:47 p.m."


	5. Chapter 5

The Test

Chapter 5

Disclaimer: Same as always, see previous chapters.

A/N: Again thank you all for the wonderful reviews. Sorry to have left you hanging last chapter, I'm just evil that way I guess. Chapter 5 will conclude our story. Hope it lives up to what you were expecting. (got my fingers crossed), ENJOY!!

"_Time of death 3:47 p.m."_

His baby boy was gone. John stood in shocked silence as those words echoed through his head. _"No, no, no. this isn't happening!" _his mind screamed out. The atmosphere in the room had gone from the frenzied pace of people trying to save a life to utter stillness as the nurses murmured quietly, removing the leads to the machines that once helped sustain that life, only now to be a horrific reminder that not all lives could be sustained. John never heard the doctor's quiet, "I'm sorry," before the man who was at a loss as to what happened to his patient left the room. For several long minutes John didn't even hear his eldest son--only son--sobbing against the wall behind him. All he could hear were those three words: _Time of death._

As the nurses finished removing the leads as well as the tube that had once breathed life into the now-still body on the bed, one of them paused. "We'll give you some time." Then she too quietly exited the room that now held so much pain.

John willed himself to move. After all he had been through in his life, all he had experienced--having to watch, helpless, as his wife was consumed by an unholy fire--he had now entered a nightmare far worse. He had to watch as one of his children died. He reached the side of Sam's bed, staring. His mind flashed to the night of the fire, as innocent eyes had looked up at him from the crib, before hell had consumed their lives, now looking at that same face; only those eyes that still held a sliver of innocence were closed forever. The child-like face before him denying the horrors it had witnessed as John released an uncontrolled sob, reaching his hand toward that now-pale face. "Oh God," he whispered. "Oh God…Sammy…I'm…so sorry." Tears ran freely completely, "I'm sorry." He leaned over and gently took his baby boy in his arms, holding him close, "I'm sorry."

John held Sam for a few moments until another sound in the room finally filtered through. It was the quiet sobs coming from Dean. Dean still hadn't moved, nor looked toward the bed that now held his dead brother. Releasing his hold of Sam, John made his way to Dean, kneeling down in front of him. "Dean," he called quietly. John knew how Dean had reacted days earlier at the possibility of his brother not making it, but he had no idea what would happen now that Sam was gone. When Mary had died a four-year-old Dean withdrew into himself, not talking for months. "Dean we need to go." John hated the idea of leaving his youngest, but knew he needed to get his eldest out of the room.

"I'm not leaving him." Dean whispered, his hands still covering his face.

"Dean, we need to. I'm sorry son, but…" John was stopped as Dean dropped his hands and John saw anger in Dean's face. That anger was only countered by the emptiness of Dean's eyes.

"He's not gone!" Dean shouted as he stood angrily, pushing past John, who had also risen. "He can't be!" Dean went to his brother's side and started yelling. "DAMN IT SAMMY…GAME'S OVER…WAKE UP!!" He grabbed Sam's shoulders and started shaking him. "DAMN IT, WAKE UP!"

Seeing Dean's uncontrolled reaction broke John's heart more than he thought it could possibly be broken. He stepped closer to Dean, "Dean, stop!" John reached for his despondent son's arm only for Dean to push him away.

Dean grabbed up his baby brother, holding him close to his chest, whispering, "He's not dead…he's not dead."

Knowing he needed to get Dean out of the room John spoke again, trying to bring an authoritative tone to his voice, but his heart wasn't in it. "Dean, let him go!"

Dean's head jerked toward his father's voice, then he looked down at his brother. "Oh God!…Oh Sammy…I'm sorry." Dean then gently laid his brother back down. He straightened Sam's arms to his sides, pushed the hair that always seemed to be in brother's eyes back. Then he pulled the blanket up to Sam's chest as if he was putting him to bed. "I won't go…I promised." Dean whispered, John just barely catching the words, as Dean gently touched Sam's face.

"Dean, please son." John had watched Dean's ministrations and a fear that he was somehow losing his oldest shot through his soul.

Looking at Sam, Dean again whispered as if he was afraid he'd wake Sam. "No Dad, I can't leave him. I promised."

"Dean!" John spoke again taking a hold of Dean's arm. He would forcibly remove his son if he had to, because he felt in his heart that Dean was slipping away.

Surprising John, Dean jerked from his father's grip. "NO! I'm not letting him do this alone!" Dean shouted, taking a step back.

Fear escalated even more inside John. "Do what?…Son we can't…we need to go, please."

Dean took on the look of a cornered animal, almost feral. His voice changed from almost broken to cold and detached. "Dad, you need to leave!"

"I'm not leaving you. We need to leave together." For once in his life John was afraid of his eldest; the expression Dean held was almost deadly. However John took a step toward his son, determined to help him through whatever he was feeling, only to stopped by a gun in his face.

It took a fraction of a second for John to realize Dean had just pulled a gun from his jeans, that John didn't even know he had on him. John's hands rose automatically, conveying that he was unarmed and didn't want to pose a threat to his distraught son. "Dean, put the gun down son." John's tone changed as well. Fear and loss turned into concern as Dean's expression took on a hollowed look.

"Dad. I. Need. You. To. Leave. Now." Each word was spoken as if to insure understanding. "Nobody is taking him away from me. Now go…please." Dean shook the gun slightly, motioning toward the door.

John took a step back hoping to defuse the situation. "Okay son, I'll step out for just a minute." Though John's heart screamed for him to not leave his eldest in this state, his mind thought by giving this concession he could get Dean out of the room before something they would both regret could happen. "Then I'm coming back in and you are going to leave with me." John backed to the door, his hands still raised.

"Dad." Dean's voice was almost as hollow as his expression, "If anyone comes through that door I'll shoot." John could tell from his son's eyes that Dean meant what he was saying.

Giving a nod of understanding, John reached for the door handle, paused, again looking at his son. "Dean, I love you son." with that John left the room. As the door closed behind him, John was already trying to figure out how he was going to get his remaining son and possibly himself out of this hospital alive.

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Watching the door close, Dean lowered his gun and quickly started pushing furniture and equipment in front of the door. He didn't know how long he'd have to stay in Sam's room, but he was going to make damn sure no one got in until he was ready to let them. Finishing with that task Dean walked over and sat on the bed next to Sam.

"Okay Sammy," he spoke quietly, touching his brother's arm. "You do what you need to, I'm right here. Nobody is going to take you anywhere until you wake up. You can't do this alone, I'm not letting you." Dean wiped a stray tear as it fell, then went to sit in the chair next to Sam's bed. Placing his gun in his lap, Dean tilted his head back and closed his eyes. This was the way Sam had come to him before, so he hoped it was the way he could get to him now. With the help of the exhaustion he'd been feeling, coupled with the emotions of the last half-hour, Dean somehow managed to fall quickly into a deep sleep.

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John had gotten a nurse's attention when he had exited the room. Without causing a lock-down of the whole hospital, John explained to her that his son was not handling the loss of his brother well and had barricaded the door. He knew this because he had heard the scraping of furniture from inside the room and tested the door, finding it wouldn't budge. John did leave out the fact that Dean had a gun with him; he figured if he could get into the room ahead of security he could remove the gun from Dean's possession. However standing there John also feared that with the way his son was acting that he would hear the discharge of said gun. Dean could very well decide to follow his brother, and take away John's remaining son by using the gun on himself. That thought alone, above all else, terrified him.

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"Dean?" Dean felt a slight shake on his arm. "Man wake up." Dean's eyes opened to an almost completely dark room except for the face before him. "What are you doing here? I told you I needed to do this alone." Dean stared into the concerned eyes of his little brother. For a second Dean lost himself, jumping up wrapping his brother into a near bone-crushing hug.

Leaning back he shook Sam's shoulder. "I told you I'm not leaving you. You've never had to face a fight alone and you're not going to start now." Dean gave his brother a cocky grin that said, "_I'm older and I know best."_

"Where's dad?" Sam asked not seeming to notice the complete darkness surrounding them.

"I made him leave." Sam gave his brother a '_how the hell did you do that look?'_look, but didn't voice the question Dean continued. "Nobody's messing with us until you wake up."

For the first-time Sam's eyes showed sadness toward Dean. "Dean, I might not. That's why what happened--happened. I knew I needed to let go, I couldn't do this while still struggling there."

"So what?! You just give up and hope for the best?" Dean was angry, "Didn't you think what it would do to Dad?…to me?" Dean couldn't believe his baby brother had given up willingly.

"Dean, you don't understand what this is, I need to do this alone. I don't want you hurt." Sam's eyes pleaded for his brother to understand.

"Sam listen, I might not understand, but after all we have been through I can't… I won't let you go alone!" Sam almost smiled. He should have known his big brother would try and follow him, protect him. Sam silently wished he hadn't revealed the way for Dean to communicate with him while he was in the coma. He should have anticipated his brother would use it now.

"All right," Sam breathed out deeply, "But you HAVE to follow my lead. DO NOT interfere, no matter what. I call the shots." Sam prayed his brother would listen. "Dean you do understand what could happen if I fail?"

"You won't fail." Dean knew, without Sam telling him, that if Sam failed at this there was a good chance neither one of them would be making it back. Giving Sam a reassuring smile Dean spoke again, "either way, we're in this together, no matter what."

Sam shook his head, "Okay, let's go."

Almost instantly they were in what appeared to be a large warehouse. "I'M HERE!" Sam shouted out as he turned his back to his brother, facing the surrounding darkness. Dean stayed a few steps behind, scanning their surroundings.

"You were supposed to come alone." a voice called from the darkness.

"It doesn't matter!" Sam again spoke loudly, his voice echoing in the large space. "He won't interfere."

"What?!" Dean whispered through clenched teeth.

"You need to stay out of this Dean. I mean it." Sam whispered back, just barely turning in his brother's direction.

As Sam turned his attention back forward both brothers watched as a Figure emerged from the darkness, its face hidden by shadows, but its eyes unmistakable.

"Sam?"

"Dean please."

"Let's see what you've learned," came the sinister voice as Dean saw a blur of movement and suddenly found himself again thrown to the ground. Only this time Sam had landed next to him, who quickly rolled, getting to his feet while Dean made it to his knees, stunned as he watched the tail lights disappear into the darkness.

"What the…?" Dean nearly shouted, getting to his feet facing his brother.

"He's testing me Dean." Dean stared as Sam continued. "I didn't react fast enough before."

"React to what?" Dean didn't know if he really wanted the answer.

Sam was the one now continually checking the surrounding darkness as he started to explain to Dean what happened. "Dean, outside the diner I had a vision." Dean looked dumbfounded. "It was meant for you, that car that hit me was meant for you. I reacted when I saw it, but I was too slow."

"What are you talking about? Sam you're not making any sense." Dean could see frustration on his brother's face as Sam knew he wasn't explaining things clearly.

"Okay," Sam frantically put his hands to his head, as if trying to gather his thoughts. "The vision, it was of you getting hit by the car. I should have understood it and reacted quicker. It took me a few seconds to process what I was seeing, then it was suddenly happening. Dean He was trying to get to you in order to get to me."

"Who?" Dean felt stupid, because he already knew the answer to the question.

"The Demon." Sam's voice turned solemn. "I've been too well protected. You and Dad have protected me so well that the only way it sees of getting to me is to come after those I care about, the ones I love. First it was mom; then Jessica and this time it was after you. But it didn't understand the sacrifice I was willing to make to protect you."

Sam could see disbelief on his brother's face. Dean was realizing that this Demon was purposely picking off people his brother cared about to get to him. "Why is it trying to get to you Sammy?"

"Do you remember when I was in the closet at Max Miller's and I moved that cabinet to get out?" Dean nodded, "Dean that…that ability had gotten stronger. Dean I've been afraid to tell you, to tell Dad. Hell man I've just been plain afraid." Sam knew the hint of that ability had freaked his brother out when he had told him about it all those months ago, that's why he had hidden it since then.

"What? How?" Dean didn't seem to be able to put a coherent thought together as Sam, himself, struggled to continue.

"Dean when that car was coming at you and Dad yelled…I held him on the sidewalk. Do you understand? I forced him to stay where he was, and you… Dean I never physically touched you. My instinct to run toward you when I saw you in danger, overrode what I knew my abilities could do. By the time I realized I had gotten you out of the way and stopped I was in the path of the car." Dean just stared, not knowing what else to do. "It was trying to see how far my ability had developed. It didn't count on my need to protect you to override those abilities. It didn't expect me to put myself, physically, in harm's way to protect you. It doesn't understand love."

Dean's mind was trying desperately to process that his brother had an even more powerful ability then they had ever imagined and that he had kept it hidden. A sudden flash of movement, again, drew both Winchester's attention as another car materialized from nowhere. However instead of moving Sam turned to face it.

"SAM!" Dean yelled as the car came to an abrupt halt two inches from his baby brother. Dean was taken aback by the look of focus and determination on his brother's face, it was almost frightening. Dean watched as the car continued to rev its engine, back wheels spinning. He was stunned when he realized that Sam was holding it in place. He then watched as Sam slightly jerked his head to the right and the car went flying into the darkness.

"Oh yeah," Dean said numbly, "this is way beyond visions and moving cabinets."

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It had been silent for several minutes inside Sam's room. John was relieved that he hadn't heard the discharge of Dean's gun, but he needed to find out what was going on inside with his son. With the help of the two security guards that the nurse had called, John pushed against the door, inching it open. He asked the guards to give him a moment to see if he could talk his son out and reluctantly they agreed. John did a quick peek first, hoping he didn't get a bullet for his trouble.

John noticed Dean was in the chair near Sam's bed, apparently sleeping. The sound of the door hadn't woken him and John prayed it was just slumber. He slowly approached, seeing Dean's gun lying in his lap, John reached, taking it, quickly pocketing it before the guards could see it. He then raised a shaking hand to his son's neck, almost fearful, but grateful to find a strong pulse there.

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Dean watched as Sam slowly turned to face the Figure that was again emerging from the darkness, clapping. "Very nice, very nice indeed." The Figure spoke coldly. "But it seems to me you still have some distractions." An evil grin crossed the Creature's face.

Suddenly a noise was heard behind Sam, who turned to find Dean dropping to his knees, hands at his throat. "DEAN!" Sam shouted, rushing to his brother, catching him as he pitched forward. "No Dean!" Dean's eyes were wide with fear as he gasped for air that refused to come.

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John jumped as Dean's body arched, as he suddenly started gasping for air. His eyes wide, staring blankly at the ceiling as he struggled for breath that wouldn't come. "I NEED HELP IN HERE!" John shouted, "No, Dean, God no!" John grabbed his son as he started to slide from the chair. Security pushed the door open wider as a doctor and two nurses quickly entered. One of the nurses moved the chair as they eased Dean's struggling body to the floor.

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Dean continued to struggle, eyes pleading with Sam. "Leave him alone!" Sam shouted as he held Dean.

"Make me if you think you can," the Figure laughed back.

Sam, tears forming in his eyes, watched as his brother's struggle eased and Dean fell silent.

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"I need to get a tube in him now!" the doctor shouted as a nurse grabbed one from a drawer along with the ambu-bag as the other nurse started chest compressions. John sat back on his knees in devastated shock at the scene playing out before him.

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Sam laid his brother down gently. Tears fell from his face and landed on Dean's. All his fear of not being able to protect his brother rose to the surface, "Dean?" He whispered as he looked at Dean's lax face. As he was looking at Dean other pictures flashed through Sam's mind; his mother's smiling face in the few photos that existed. Jessica's warm, loving smile from the photo he carried in his wallet. Then his eyes focused back on his brother's, wishing for that cocky grin his brother loved to flash so much. This loss was more than Sam could fathom. He loved his mother, even though he never knew her. He had dearly loved Jessica, but the love he carried in his heart for his brother made that love pale in comparison. It was his love for Dean that had caused him to physically put himself in harm's way on that street outside the diner and it was that love that fortified his resolve now. Sam dried his tears and stood slowly.

Yes anger and fear filled him, but love was the focusing factor as he set his face with furious determination and turned on the thing that had taken so much from him. A ghost of a smile crossed Sam's face as he saw the figure before him flinch and step back as Sam faced it. "Let go of my brother!" Sam said calmly, but with a chill that was even noticed by the Creature in front of him. At the moment the words passed his lips, the Figure went flying backwards, slamming heard into the wall several feet behind.

"Oh Sammy," the Demon couldn't help but smirk, "that's my boy, let your anger feed your power." The smirk quickly left Its face as It realized It couldn't counter Sam's hold.

Fear seemed to flash in Its eyes as Sam, in turn, gave his own smirk. The facial expression had been made perfect by years of watching his big brother perform it. "I said," Sam stepped closer, "let him go."

The figure struggled against Sam's force, "How?" This time it was confusion in Its voice.

"You'll never understand. I have something that, allows me to fight whatever you throw at me. It's what will make me do anything to protect my family, my brother." Sam got right into the Creature's face. "I may not be able to kill you with it yet, but someday, I will; _I promise. _Now I said…" Sam slowly raised the figure up the wall, "Let my brother go!" with that Sam turned his head sharply and the Creature flew into the darkness, disappearing.

Sam stood a second breathing hard, still shocked himself at what he had just been able to do. He then turned and ran to Dean's side. He dropped to his knees as Dean gasped, eyes shooting open, looking around wildly until they landed on Sam. "What…happened?" He barely whispered.

"I'll explain later, let's go." Sam helped Dean to his feet.

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John watched his eldest son gasp as the doctor stopped compressions. Moving next to him, John watched as Dean slowly opened his eyes. "Dean?" John's broken voice called to his son, whose eyes seemed to be searching. The doctor quickly removed the breathing tube from Dean's throat. "Oh God, Dean." John pulled Dean into a hug, slightly rocking him. "God son, I thought I lost you too." John cried out as Dean's breaths evened out and he felt Dean's hand twisting onto his shirt.

"Dad?" Dean's voice was hoarse from the effect of air being force down it. "Sammy?"

"Dean," a raspy voice was heard behind those still on the floor as a nurse and the doctor quickly got to their feet, their attention drawn to the bed. John's head also shot up, looking bewildered toward the bed.

"Sammy," Dean again whispered as he struggled to get out of his father's grasp and to his little brother.

"I don't understand." the doctor mumbled as both he and the nurse started checking the vitals of a very much alive Sam.

As John helped Dean get to his feet, he too looked on in shock as he saw his baby boy's eyes blink and a lop-sided smile grace Sam's still-pale face. Dean stumbled toward his brother as John found his voice, "How?" He looked at the doctor, then back to his son.

"I don't know," the doctor answered. "But initial vitals look normal. I can't explain it." The doctor backed away allowing John and Dean closer to the bed.

Sam reached his hand up and Dean grasped it tightly with his own. "Told you I wouldn't leave." Dean smirked, still trying to get his breath as he sat on the edge of the bed.

John reached, touching Sam's head, "Sammy." Tears rolled from John's eyes.

"It's okay Dad," Sam looked from his father to his brother. "We're okay." Dean nodded.

The doctor and nurses backed away as security also left the room, allowing the once-broken family to begin to heal.

Epilogue:

Over the next few days Sam attempted to explain to his Dad everything that had happened, including how Dean had become a part of the struggle. John was still reeling from loosing both of his sons then miraculously being given them back all in the space of an hour--the longest hour of John's life.

The third day after the whole horrifying ordeal, Sam was released from the hospital with crutches and orders to take it easy for several weeks. That night as they got resettled at the motel, resting before making the drive to Bobby's so Sam could recoup, John sat at the table in the room the boys were sharing. Dean was cleaning their small arsenal , while Sam had his leg propped up and his lap-top on a pillow across his lap.

"Sam?" John's voice broke the silence as both Sam and Dean looked up toward their father. "How did you know?…How did you know your ability was stronger if you hadn't used it?" John was still confused about learning of his son's new ability. At least new to him, because other than knowing about Sam's visions the boys had neglected to mention the whole, 'moving objects' part of the deal.

"I don't know really," Sam said almost shyly. "It was just something I could feel inside." He looked at John then Dean. "I was scared at first…Hell I still am because I don't really know exactly what control I have." Lowering his gaze to his lap-top, Sam seemed lost for a few seconds. "It's always been emotions that serve as the trigger. Especially…" Sam again looked at his brother, "especially if I think something is going to happen to you." His voice was just above a whisper.

Silence filled the room as John watched his boys. Each was so determined to protect the other no matter the cost to himself. He was proud of them, but saddened as well. As John had witnessed at the hospital, loosing one of his boys would, in a very real way, almost guarantee the loss of the other. John prayed he would never live to see that happen.

"So do you think Bobby will be able to help explain what happened?" Dean asked John, who seemed lost in thought. "Dad?"

John snapped his attention back to Dean, "What?"

Dean and Sam exchanged glances, each unsure what to make of their Dad's zoning out; that just never happened. Then again a lot had happened lately that should have never happened.

Dean cleared his throat and asked again, "Bobby? You think he'll be able to explain what happened with Sammy?"

"I don't know Dean." John stated as he stood, crossing the room toward his boys. "Right now all I care about is that you two are alive and safe." He glanced at Sam, "We'll worry about the rest once we get to Bobby's."

The two younger Winchesters exchanged glances again at their father's unusual openness about his feelings toward them, but again it had been a rough couple of weeks. They had each found subtle ways of being near one another without seeming to be. "Dad you okay?" Dean asked.

Sam and Dean watched as their father blinked back tears, "Yeah, I'm good." John turned from them, heading toward the door. "I'll go get us something to eat," he said exiting the room. As he closed the door he paused and glanced back. John knew the war wasn't over by a long shot, but at least the Winchesters had won the battle; this time.

A/N: The End. Thank you all again for reading and reviewing. Hope it came together satisfactorily enough for everyone. Thanks again to FraidyCat-you're wonderful as always. Until next time.


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